


My Enemy, My Ally

by lady_summoner



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Military Backstory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_summoner/pseuds/lady_summoner
Summary: (Takes place after the events of 3.3 and continues into Stormblood.)  No longer the Azure Dragoon, Estinien Wrymblood now travels to try and mend the relationship between man and dragon.  But his ties to Nidhogg are not so easily shed, and now Estinien finds himself learning how to be a true dragon knight...





	1. The Yawn

**Author's Note:**

> (This...kinda came out of nowhere much like how Unorthodox did. Given that Estinien seems to still be able to draw upon Nidhogg's power, even though the Eyes are now gone, plus his appearance in the level 70 DRG questline...I started to wonder, what if Estinien's dragon -was- Nidhogg? Or rather, a purified remnant of Nidhogg's essence?)
> 
> \-----------------------

                 The weather in Gyr Abania was deceptive.  It looked hot, however the thin air held a slight chill.  But for Estinien, Gyr Abania’s version of ‘cold’ was a pleasant warmth compared to the snows of Coerthas. 

                _< Anything is warmer than Corethas.  Or even Dravania.>_ Estinien chuckled, continuing to walk forward.

                “I find it strange that I can say, ‘I remember when Corethas was green.’”  He said. 

                _< You don’t think it’ll ever be green again?>_

                “I would like it to be green again, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”  Estinien stopped, eyes scanning the path in front of him.   “This should be the right way.”  A pressure made itself known on his left shoulder, the feeling of something small carefully balancing on the armor.

_ <You could have asked for specifics.>_

                “I would rather keep this to myself.”  Estinien started to walk again.  “Aymeric has enough problems on his plate as is.  Were he to know if this, he’d try to help.”  The pressure moved from off his left shoulder, tiny claws pressing into the nape of the elezen’s neck as it draped itself in the junction between his neck and shoulder on the right-hand side.

                _< Is there even a plan?>_

                “Haven’t gotten that far yet.”

                _< So, we’re just taking a leisurely stroll then.>_ Estinien came to a halt, looking up at a cliff facing.

                “Not so much leisure anymore.”  He said.  A large section of the cliff had been gouged out.  The jaggedness of the rocks and the exposed sediment were an indicator that whatever had crashed into the cliff, it had been recent.  The elezen walked over to the cliff face, reaching a hand upward to touch the rock.

                “Look at this.”  He said.  In the sunlight, much of the sediment sparkled.  “It looks like glass.”  A tail lightly bopped the side of his head.

                _< You’re forgetting to use your other senses.>_ Estinien shot his right shoulder a dirty look.

                “I was getting to that.”  Closing his eyes, he inhaled.  Dragonfire rippled to life in his veins, and he felt another mind merge with his own.  The world around him sharpened-now he could smell different things in the wind, and he could hear the movements of creatures-both large and small a good several yalms away.  Aether pulsated and throbbed beneath his metal-clad fingers, and if he pushed just a little bit deeper…

                _There._   He could feel it, the lingering trace of ancient miasma.  Nidhogg’s grief and rage was easily identifiable, it was something he’d even be able to identify in his sleep.  Memories stirred in the back of Estinien’s mind, threatening to break his focus-- Then the other mind moved-blocking the memories.  Relief rippled through the elezen, and he renewed his attention on the aether.

                “Northeast.”  He said, opening his eyes.  The mind separated from his own, and Estinien felt his senses return to normal.  “Not too far off.”  The presence moved again-now it felt as if something was coiling around his neck, offering faint rumblings of comfort.  Unable to help himself, Estinien lifted a hand to his neck as he started to walk again.

 

 

                Another two bells’ walk, and Estinien soon found himself approaching a large hole bored into the ground level of a cliff.  It stretched upward and outward as far as the eye could see, and as Estinien approached the lip, he could see that it continued down far past surface level.

                _< Are they here then?>_

                “Aye, this is the place.”  Estinien replied, folding his arms.  He could feel the taint of Nidhogg’s eyes like an invisible cord, wrapping around him and pulling at him to drop down into the gaping maw.  In the past he would have followed, focusing on the mission and nothing else.  And for the sake of everything-the Eyes had to be destroyed.  Yet Estinien found himself almost hesitant to move.

                “…When his shade was banished, you swore to leave this life behind.”  He muttered.  “And yet here you are…”

                _< You had no life.  Everything was wrapped around your goal of killing me, remember?>_ The coils seemed to remove themselves from Estinien’s neck, now there was a small body pressing against the right side of his face _. <Not to mention if it wasn’t Ishgard related, you didn’t care.>_ The elezen didn’t respond, still looking at the large hole. 

                _I left…to try and start over._   He’d made too many mistakes-as the leader of the Knights-Dragoon, as a son, as a friend.  Even when Nidhogg had finally died, Estinien realized that he still didn’t know just who or what he was, or even what he wanted.  He liked to think he was doing a good job so far of finding that out…         

                “Yet if this be the work of the Eyes, what choice do you have but to end it?”  A sigh escaped his lips as the image of Alphinaud rose to the forefront of his mind.  “Or so the boy would say.  Damn you, Alphinaud.”

                _< Doing a good deed is not going to kill you.>_ Nidhogg snarked in his thoughts.  _< Or maybe it might.  Either way.> _Estinien’s lips curved upward into a grin, and he unfolded his arms. 


	2. Infirmary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone in the infirmary, after his freedom from Nidhogg, Estinien begins to face some hard truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Starting from the beginning. We really don't have anything on Estinien in the hospital, and what we do have is him being all stoic as he admits what happened with him and Nidhogg. But given the enormity of the whole situation, and furthermore, his appearance in the Stormblood MSQ--his words, even his face, it appears as if he's been dealing with -something-. So I figured a moment in which Estinien starts to come to grips with everything that happened, including the loss of so many under his command by his hands indirectly...)
> 
> \-----------------

               He was a failure as a son…both to his birth parents and to his adopted father.  Of the former, all he had left of them were memories.  They had been model Halone-fearing farmers, their concern centered on their children and the living they were coaxing from the land.  His father had just been coming into his own for the sheep that he raised, his mother had already been known for her weaving.  Not in their wildest dreams would they have imagined that their son would vault so high above their humble origins.  For the latter…  Estinien rested his arm over his eyes, closing them.

                _Alberic…_   Estinien would freely admit, he had not been an easy charge.  He’d been a ball of grief and rage, right on the cusp of beginning the transition to manhood.  There had been times where he’d expected Alberic to simply throw up his hands and give up, but the hyur had a streak of stubbornness that was unyielding as the stone Ishgard was carved from. 

 _I’m not a replacement for your father and mother.  I don’t want to be, nor was it my intention, and I will never be what you lost.  But I’ll be damned if I let you run loose to bring dishonor on them!_ With a combination of kindness and gruff military handling, Alberic helped the grieving boy direct his energy into more productive forms instead of self-destruction.  For Estinien’s part, he had begun to idolize his adopted father—his skill in combat, the tales of his exploits as the Azure Dragoon.  And it was then that the beginnings of his plan first sparked into life.  It was simple enough, he would become a dragoon-squire, then a dragoon, and then finally, take the title of Azure Dragoon.  For the Azure Dragoon had access to the Eye…ripped from a socket of the dread wrym himself.  With the Eye, he could finally come face to face with Nidhogg himself, and avenge his family…

                _The path of the Azure is dangerous, Estinien.  It is not for those who harbor hatred in their heart, who are blinded by rage.  They will be found unworthy and the Fury will cast her judgement upon them.  Your heart must be pure-filled with good intent, and your will must be strong to resist the temptation it will croon in your ears…_ Estinien swallowed, fighting back a sob.  Of all the things he hadn’t wanted to do, and he’d realized it too late, was to disappoint the man who he’d come to love as a second father. 

                _Be kind to your fellow knights, even when you command them._   On that, Alberic had been firm.  _Not many in power give a damn about their lives-they’ll spend them like spoiled nobles burning through gil.  Break bread with them, fight with them, slog though shite with them, bleed with them…always remember that you’re no better than them.  Do this and you’ll not only have friends for your lifetime, but loyal men and women who will obey…well, not your every command, but will respect and listen to what you say, and will have no qualms in correcting you if needed._

                _I failed them too…_   Estinien could feel tears threatening.  They came upon him suddenly now, along with the gnawing pain in his heart that was now a constant companion.  He’d overheard the nurses talking-the decision had been made not to tell him what had happened to the Order while he was in this stage of recovery, but Estinien knew.  The Knights Dragoon had lost more than three-quarters of their members, each one giving their life in defense of the city.  He’d seem some of them fall though Nidhogg’s eyes, small forms in spiked armor going down fighting.  He’d even recognized some of the armor colors.  How he’d screamed then, knowing that he’d never be able to beg their forgiveness, regretting his behavior—he should have known better, should have planned better-should have reached out more.  Instead he’d been aloof.  Yes, he’d followed Alberic’s words, and he felt he’d been one of the better commanders of the Congregation, understanding the stress and strain that his fellows went though.  He’d not been lenient, but he’d not cracked the whip either.  But all attempts that his fellow dragoons had made to become friends…those he’d politely but firmly rebuffed.  Even Aymeric he’d kept at a relative distance, for he had to stay focused on his goal of revenge…  The tears began to fall, and Estinien found he couldn’t stop them.

_I failed…I failed them all…_


	3. Grieving (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The former First Lance takes it upon herself to drag the former Azure Dragoon out of a hole...or at least attempt to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So another tricky chapter as...I don't think the idea of a grieving Estinien's ever been explored. Could be wrong. So I decided to run with it. I think for certain he would have closeted himself away while he started to process everything that had happened, and he would have gone for possibly the most isolated place that he could. In my case I decided to place him in Dravania, living in a proto-Ishgardian ruin. Some of them ingame certainly look relatively livable enough for basic camping needs.
> 
> There's also not really much said on Heustienne either after the level 60 HW DRG questline. When we meet up with her again for the 60 SB DRG starter questline, she states that she's had a difficult time adjusting--and possibly would have met a bad end had it not been for Orn Khai. I decided to go with the idea that Heustienne's problems were the result of her inner dragon manifesting strongly thanks to the dragon's blood she was forced to ingest, and Orn Khai and any help he provided enabled her to find a balance with her newly awakened aspect. 
> 
> On the idea of her encountering Estinien...who knows? It's remote, but there. Estinien does say in the level 70 DRG questline he's been exploring, trying to repair the relationship between man and dragon. However for the purposes of this fic, I think she most certainly would have tried to help Estinien if he was in a depressive funk. While I have her being a little...'brutal' in her means of help, it is for the sake of story.
> 
> Please enjoy. *bow* Also, I upped the chapter rating because well...naked bearded Estinien bathing. Rather be safe than sorry.)
> 
> \--------------------

“I feel awful for what I’m about to do to him.”

                _< Should have used cold water.>_

                “I can’t be that cruel!”

                _< Life is pain.>_ Heustienne shook her head _. <Besides.  He has been cooped up for too long.  Probably eating away at his sanity.>_ The blond elezen sighed, coming to a stop and feeling her heart twist at what was before her eyes.

                “Oh Estinien.”  She murmured.  Lying on a makeshift mattress against the far wall was the former Azure Dragoon.  His clothes were grungy, his silver hair was matted with tangles, and he was sporting an impressive amount of facial hair.  Dark bags were under his eyes, and his skin was pale.  The meals that Heustienne had brought the day before were lying untouched off to the side.  He’d been in this state ever since the former First Lance had encountered him in the Rookery a moon past.  Heustienne suspected however that Estinien had probably arrived much earlier than that, but her former commander hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with information.  The elezen in front of her was a pale shadow of what she remembered, grief and heartache combining to act as a slow poison to drain his once-iron will.  With a sigh, Heustienne hefted her bucket.

                “Jean?”  She asked.  A thrill rippled through her as she felt her inner dragon respond, dragonfire starting to burn in her veins.  Her senses sharpened to the point of near pain, and Heustienne could feel power coiling in her muscles.

 _ <For the record, I still think you should have used cold water.>_ Jean commented.  Heustienne rolled her eyes, and then flung the contents of the bucket with all her might on the prone Estinien.  Calling on her dragon proved to be a smart choice, as with a strangled scream Estinien raged upwards out of slumber, teeth bared and in full attack mode.  Heustienne countered by slamming her bucket hard against the ex-Azure’s spear with one hand to disarm him, reaching out with lighting fast reflexes to grab him by the throat with the other.  Drawing on Jean’s power, she slammed Estinien back down onto the mattress, pinning him with a foot against the sodden fabric with an answering snarl.  The action-and the sound was enough to jar Estinien out of his rage-induced haze, and he blinked.

                “Heus…Heustienne?!”

                “Consider this an intervention.  Of sorts.”  Heustienne sucked in a breath, feeling the dragon-aether still racing though her.  “Are you all there?”

                “I want to fucking rip your head off, does that bloody count?!  What you’d do that for?!”

                “You needed a bath.  Or rather the start of one.  You reek to the high heavens!”

                “Get off me and leave me alone!”

                “I’ll do the former, but not the latter.”  Heustienne did her best to suppress the wave of guilt that threatened to swamp her, she’d been unforgivably rude to a grieving person.  This was surely going on her record with Halone somewhere…

                “You’ve barely touched any of the food I’ve brought.  You haven’t washed in…only gods know how long, but at least you’ve had enough wits to not piss and shite your bed, so you’ve not gone completely witless.  You’ve been in this small ruined room for almost two moons-and look at you!  Look at this?  Since when was I ever able to put you on your arse like this?!”  Estinien didn’t say anything, turning his head to look away. 

                “Leave me alone.  Please.”  His voice shook.  “I’ll eat-I’ll clean up, just…please.  Leave me alone.”

                “I leave you alone you’re going to just curl up again and not move.”  Heustienne slowly removed her foot, squatting down to try and better get on the ex-Azure’s level.  Estinien still refused to meet her gaze, now staring up at the ceiling.  “And I get that. But you’re not doing it here, and not like this.  You’re going to get up, and you’re going to follow me.  The lake up the way got some sun today, so it won’t be freezing. You can take a proper bath there, and I have some hot water so that you can at least wash your face and shave.  After that, you’re eating, and I promise you that you’ll feel a little better after you’ve done those things.”  Estinien remained silent, his eyes roaming over the broken masonry.

                “…Why don’t you hate me?”  He whispered.  “I treated you like shite.  I never sent out a proper search team for you.”

                “I don’t hate you.  Well, I did after you beat me for the Eye, but I got over that…at some point.  And you couldn’t send a search party out for me, because by the time you returned to Ishgard I was already missing for close to half a moon.”  Heustienne paused, considering her next words with care.  “And you never treated me like shite.  I was proud to fight by your side, and even prouder to have you as a commander.”  Estinien squeezed his eyes shut, lifting an arm to cover them.  Shifting position, Heustienne reached out to gently lay a hand on it.

                “Please?”  She asked.  “A bath, and food.  From there, everything else can be figured out.”

 

\-------

 

                True to Heustienne’s word, the nearby lake had warmed up.  Somewhat.  Estinien bit back a lurid string of profanities as he waded in up to his waist, turning to fix his former First Lance with a glare.

                “See something you like?”  He snarled.

                “Not really.”  Heustienne winced as Jean broke out into hysterical laughter at her retort, shoving up a mental wall between her and her inner dragon.  “Start washing.  The water’s not that cold to take your prick and balls away, not that you’ve been using them for anything special.”  Even more shrieking laughter from Jean.  To her relief, Estinien growled and picked up the bar of soap from the floating tray that was nearby.  If he could be grumpy, that was a good sign.  Turning to get the fresh clothes she’d gotten as replacements, Heustienne made sure that she could keep an eye on Estinien.  As she did so, her eyes passed over his Gale Bog…or what once had been it.  Like the brief glimpse of his soulstone that she’d spotted, it had also been changed because of his possession by Nidhogg.  And speaking of the great wyrm...

                “If you’re done howling like a lunatic inside my head…”   In response, Jean chortled.  “Does he still feel the same way that you told me before, or is he different now?”  Silence for several moments, and then Heustienne felt the pressure of coils moving around her chest and neck, then the feel of something lifting its head into the air.

                _< Yes.  It smells like Nidhogg…but changed in some way.>_ Heustienne turned her head so that Estinien wouldn’t see her speak.

                “Changed how?”

_ <I don’t know yet.  I need to get a better sniff once he’s fully clean and even then, I can’t make promises.  He reeks of despair.>_

                “That can’t be helped.”  Heustienne murmured.  “Just…do your best, please.”  Rising, she made her way back to the lake’s edge with the clothes.  Estinien had padded out of the water, picking up a towel and was drying himself off.  “Oh good, I don’t have to dress you.”

                “Piss off.”  Came the growled reply.  Heustienne smirked.

                “Oh, not just yet, wild man of Coerthas.”  She thrust the clothes at Estinien.  “Get dressed, then sit your arse down.  I’m shaving you.”   Estinien blinked in shock.

                “Wait, what?”

                “I’m shaving you.  If I could put you on your arse and you stayed down, your hands are far from steady with sharp objects.”  Ignoring the splutters of incredulity, Heustienne gestured to a rock that was nearby.  “You can either sit peacefully and enjoy the pampering, or else I can hog tie you to the rock-a feat that I think at this point we both know I can pull off-and we’ll just bitch at each other like the old days in training throughout the whole thing.  Which would you prefer?”


	4. The Yawn (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Estinien dares to venture into the Yawn's depths...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So I'm trying out a small experiment-bouncing between Estinien's past pre Stormblood and then his current presence/events during SB. This chapter focuses on what possibly happened when he ventured into the Yawn. Which...in of itself seems a bit odd. During the Shinryu/Omega FMV, we clearly see Omega falls to one location, Shinryu goes flying off elsewhere. Yet in the game--[and to my general knowledge of the lore for SB, I could be wrong] we see it presented that both of them fell down in the same area. Estinien clearly tracks down Shinryu possibly via his connection to the Eyes, and after the events of SB we see the Yawn now flooded with the purple liquid that acts as a gateway to Omega's domain.
> 
> This also was tricky considering what happens after Estinien discovers Shinryu's location. We hear nothing of it until the scene where Zenos seems to learn of the Yawn's location and what it contains, then it's told to the WoL player that Zenos has left Doma for Gyr Abania, presumably having learned of Omega's location. For me it wouldn't have made sense for Estinien to -NOT- have reported his discovery-nor just up and leaving it to report it in personally. So I decided to run with the theory that he perhaps reported it into the Alliance, and probably was on guard in the hopes that the Alliance could recover the contents of the Yawn first before the Imperials found it.
> 
> Also regarding Nidhogg...I start to present it here, but will go more in depth in later chapters--he's not as 'knowledgeable' as his older/natural/non-corrupted form might have been. Given the current state of Estinien, and what probably happened to Nidhogg as well, I feel that any remnants would probably be suffering from some type of knowledge/memory loss, and basically would have to relearn certain things.)
> 
> \----------------------

Going down was trickier than he anticipated.  Jumping was out of the question, gods-only-knew what was at the bottom.  Given the angle at which the massive hole had been created, he could have slid all the way down...but again, there was no frame of reference for what was at the bottom.  So Estinien slowly started to climb his way down, drawing on the dragon-aether in his veins to sharpen his senses and keep his footing sure. A ball of dragonfire hovered just off to the side of his head, helping him to see where he was going.

 _< Lots of glass.>_  Nidhogg remarked. Around the dragoon, the walls and ground sparkled as the light from the dragonfire shone, sand having been transformed by the intense heat. _ <Might be money for someone.>_

“If anyone’s fool enough to come inside here other than us.”  Estinien grunted, carefully testing a jutting rock with one armor-clad foot.  Finding it solid, he bore down with his full weight, armor clinking as he continued to climb down.  He was no stranger to climbing-rock climbing, roof climbing-those were required training as a Knight Dragoon.  He’d traveled the mountains of Coerthas and Dravania, and he’d certainly been making his way through Gyr Albania’s ranges...but he’d never really gone below...well, the surface level of the ground.

 _This has to be what...200, 300 yalms so far?_  He’d heard rumors that there were massive Allagan structures located even further down, way past the 500 yalm-mark.  

 _< Mental note, get a measuring tape the next time you’re resupplying.>_  Nidhogg snarked.

“How about you give me a hand and go scouting?”  Estinien’s voice was harsh, but it was from the effort needed for him to focus on the climb.

 _< How about you get someplace first where you won’t kill yourself?>_  Estinien couldn’t help it, his lips curving in a wry grin. Making his way to another outcropping, he eased his way onto the rock, dropping into a kneeling position.

“Ready when you are.”  He said. There was silence, and then Estinien felt--the best way he could honestly describe it was a _lurch_ that rocked his body.  The power in his veins suddenly vanished, and he could feel something pulling itself out of his back. His senses dulled-he could no longer see further, hear the skitters of the small animals that were daring to explore the new area-- Estinien felt himself start to tremble, and he quickly put his hands on the outcropping’s surface to steady himself.  Disorientation overwhelmed him for several moments, and Estinien closed his eyes.

 _< Are you alright?>_  Estinien opened his eyes to see Nidhogg--who was the size of his forearm and dragonfire-blue in color--hovering in front of him.

“I’m fine.  It’s just still unpleasant to feel.”  He said, slowly rocking back on his heels.  With a nod, the spectral form of Nidhogg turned and flew downward.  Estinien exhaled, feeling another set of fine tremors ripple through his body.  Without Nidhogg’s presence, he felt strangely bereft, not to mention cold. One got used to the warmth of dragonflames…  Movement caught Estinien’s eye. Nidhogg was flying back as fast as his little wings would take him.

_ <Get up.  You need to see this.> _

 

‘This’ turned out to be a prismatic forcefield that took up the entire width of of the hole. Directly in its’ center was a silver and black circular device, and just below that was a massive red mane.  Estinien came to a stop on another outcropping, Nidhogg perched on his right shoulder.

“Good thing I didn’t jump or slide in.”  He said. “Otherwise it would have been right into that forcefield.  A bad idea considering this armor.” This close, he could feel the call of the Eyes...but it was muted, restrained.  For that, Estinien was grateful. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with a mental flashback. No, he’d give the infernal machinery it’s due here, it seemed as if the new primal was being subdued.  

_ <Seems like...what is it called? Omega?> _

“Omega, aye.”  Estinien said.

 _< Seems like Omega was actually able to do something.>  _Nidhogg shifted position, sitting down. _< I remember us watching that fight.  The machine seemed overwhelmed…>_ Estinien dropped down in a squat, scrutinizing the forcefield surface.

“Well for one thing, your eyes are feeding it power.  The other...well, that deals with just how it was created.”  He said. “The worst kind of magic when it comes to summoning...lives.”

_ <Lives?> _

“I remember Aymeric and Lucia discussing what the Warrior of Light said she encountered in the fortress.  As a major component of the ritual, the Griffin used the deaths of those who followed him-their blood, their bodies, their final prayers to the god they believed in...all of that went into the summoning.”  Even speaking of it made Estinien feel ill--he, a battle-hardened soldier, who had seen the worst that the battlefield could offer--what Illberd had done was enough to make him sick. Nidhogg recoiled-his own horror mirroring the elezen’s own.

_ <Such things can be done?!> _

“Can be done, and have been done.”  Estinien murmured. Blood magic was the worst kind of magic out there--for it was almost damn near impossible to repair the damages it could inflict.  Rising, he looked down at the mane of red hair. The temptation was overwhelming-he could probably break the forcefield, jump down...and finally, finally end this wretched curse.  But…

 _<...I want you to do it too.  But...but it’s too dangerous. >_  The admission made Estinien lift his hand, petting a small head-partly for his comfort, and the comfort of his dragon.

“I know.  This is for the Warrior of Light and her fellows.”  He said.

_ <...Do you think she can?>   _

“She put the Doman primal down.”

_ <But she couldn’t defeat Zenos.>   _

“That bastard is an entirely different story.  Something possibly more disturbing than this, if the rumors around here are true.”  Estinien said, crossing his arms. “But him aside...something needs be done about this.”  

<I know what has to be done, and you’re not going to like it.>  Nidhogg said, standing back up. <We have to let the Alliance know, and trust that they can get word to Aymeric and the mechanical people in Ishgard.>  Estinien sighed, closing his eyes.

“The Alliance has too much to deal with right now.”

 _< Unfortunate for them, but it’s the only solution to this right now.  If we up and leave and take this directly to Ishgard, the Imperials will probably discover this, and then it’d just be all gone to your mortal hells, now wouldn’t it?>_  Nidhogg snarked. _< Besides. It allows us to keep an eye on it while word gets back to Coerthas. You know Aymeric will come as fast as he can the minute he hears.>_ Estinien repressed another sigh.  His other self had a valid point-several, in fact. It was better for them to keep an eye on the trapped primal and the infernal machine while word was sent to Ishgard. Both were too valuable prizes to just leave alone…


	5. Grieving (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Heustienne cares for her one-time rival and commander, a mystery about Estinien's current condition unfolds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So another attempt at an angsty Estinien. Plus also a personal theorycraft of mine...just what happens with our favorite grumpgoon if you go though ARR as any other class other than Dragoon. There's no mention of the details of Ferndale, or Estinien's near possession by Nidhogg and his subsequent purification by Haldrath. I think he would have undergone the same struggle--and so I decided to add in my own ideas on the matter, only a bit more...creative, given the general plot of the story. :3
> 
> Please look forward to it. *bow*)
> 
> \----------------------------------

                He supposed that he should be feeling outrage…but honestly, feeling anything was just too much.  He wasn’t one for nursemaids either, even when he’d been a child.

                “Tilt your head up.”

                “Since when did you know how to shave a man?”  Heustienne carefully ran the blade over Estinien’s left cheek, then dipped it into a bowl of warm water.

                “When my father would have bad nights, his hands would tremble in the morning.”  She said matter-of-factly.  “So, I learned how to use a razor so I could help him.”  Estinien fell silent, the blade gliding over his cheek once more.

                “…Why are you doing this?”  He asked.

                “Because you need a friend, and because it wasn’t your fault.”  Heustienne was quick to draw the razor back as she spoke, feeling Estinien jerk violently in surprise beneath her right hand.  “This was different from being on command.  How were you supposed to know it was going to happen?”

                “I had a chance to get rid of the armor.  But I couldn’t.  I didn’t, because it would have meant robbing someone else of repairs or a suit.  I thought I could hold on a little bit longer.”

                “I would have made the same decision.”  Heustienne rinsed off the razor.

                “I should have listened to the Scions’ healer.”  Estinien fell silent as the razor moved over his jaw.  “It was starting to affect me, but I thought as long as I could hold on a little while longer…what could I have done?  There wasn’t anyplace safe to put it down…”

                “I think you’re forgetting that besides the Archbishop and his cronies, nobody else knew about the other Eye.”  Heustienne drew back her hand as Estinien started in surprise once again.  “Yes, I know about that.  Alberic is good friends with my father, remember?”

                “For a dead woman you seem to be surprisingly well-informed.”  Heustienne chuckled, lifting the razor back to her former boss’ cheek. 

                “I think that had you not encountered the second Eye, you would have been fine.”  She said.  “As for everything else-answer me this.  Was there honestly a safe place to rest the Azure Dragoon’s Eye that you could have used?”  Estinien was silent for several moments, and then closed his eyes.

                “No.  Aymeric and I…we had discussed it, but with what was happening…”  He trailed off.  “We couldn’t take the chance that there was a ally of the Archbishop around or even worse…”  Heustienne nodded.

                “So, you made a judgement call.”  She said briskly.  “The Eye was safer with you, just as you continuing to wear that armor ensured that one of our fellows could get repairs/replacements.  You couldn’t have known the Archbishop had Nidhogg’s other eye, let alone the scaley bastard being able to hang onto just the bare threads of life.”  Estinien didn’t reply.

                “…I was having trouble with it, Heustienne.”  He sensed the other elezen going still.  “When the Warrior of Light first came to Coerthas, and I elected to take that long-patrol.  I found out the truth of Ferndale then.”

                “The truth of Ferndale?”  Heustienne repeated.  Ingrained caution made her set down the razor as she listened to Estinien speak.

                “Alberic almost became overwhelmed by the Eye.  He…panicked, rejected it, and lost his power as the Azure.  When that happened, the dragons under Nidhogg turned on Ferndale.”  Estinien heard Heustienne’s swift intake of breath.  “I…I became so angry, Heustienne.  It was as if I’d lost my family and friends all over again, and Alberic…”  The white-haired elezen’s voice cracked.  “I loved him.  I loved him, I idolized him, and to find out…I couldn’t even _look_ him in the _face_ without hurting.”  Tears began to roll down Estinien’s cheeks, falling onto his lap.

                “I tried to tell myself…it was the Eye.  He didn’t have a choice.  He couldn’t have known.  If he’d let himself be possessed, Ishgard would have burned, because Nidhogg would have known everything about us.”  Heustienne blinked, she could feel Jean suddenly coiling about her neck, lifting his head towards Estinien.  “But I couldn’t get rid of the anger.  Not by logic, not by prayer, not by any way.  It burned in my belly, it was always on my tongue.  And then…Nidhogg started whispering to me.”  Estinien was trembling now, and Heustienne put a hand to her mouth in horror.  The former Azure was staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on something he could only see, naked agony on his face.

                “I could make the pain stop if I gave in.  I could avenge Ferndale.  I could restore the honor of the Azure.  I’d have power at my fingertips…enough even to rival, no, surpass the Warrior of Light.”  Estinien’s throat bobbed.  “The whispers were constant, and so I—that’s why I was gone for so long.  I was afraid I’d lose control, or the Eye would start to reach out for one of you.”

                “Estinien.”  Heustienne whispered.  Halone, what could she say to such raw grief?  Jean in the meanwhile had pulled in a few quick sniffs and was now starting to mentally nudge her.  Heustienne ignored the dragon, looking at Estinien.

                “Estinien, you fought him off.  You proved yourself stronger.”  Estinien hiccupped in reply, looking away.

                “I don’t even know if I did.  I kept ignoring the Eye-and one day, it came to a head.”  His voice was raspy.  “Nidhogg came at me…it was so strong I had to abandon my patrol.”  The trembling worsened, and Estinien wrapped his arms around his body.  “He…it was like what happened at the Reactor.  He was there, right next to me, his energy surrounding me.  It hurt, and I was struggling to keep him **out** , keep him _away_ , I didn’t want him crawling inside me, inside my head...”  His voice was rising in pitch.  “It kept getting worse and worse until-”

                “Until what-” Heustienne was cut off as Jean suddenly overwhelmed her senses, forcing a flood of scents under her nose.  In retaliation, the blond woman prepared to yell in rage, but stopped cold as she recognized one smell, something that was certainly not native to a dragoon.  Immediately she inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance wash over her. 

                _This is the incense the high-ranking Inquisitors use!_

                _< I recognized it from your memories.>_ Jean said.  Heustienne didn’t respond, inhaling once again.  There was the power of the Warrior-clean, pure, unblemished Light intermingled with elemental energies.  There was Estinien’s own aether, tainted by dragon-no, Nidhogg’s aether, but mixed in with the power of the wrym was Halonic-magic. **_Recent_** Halonic magic.

_What the…_

                _< Did they put a priest on him when they pried the Eyes off?>_ Heustienne didn’t answer, instead looking at Estinien again.  The other elezen was hunched over, arms still wrapped around himself.  A memory was slowly unfolding in her thoughts, but…

                “Estinien.”  The former Azure flinched.  “You fought off Nidhogg.  You fought him off, and you returned to us.”  Her voice was gentle, but firm.  “Otherwise, I think we would need to have a serious discussion on just who lead the assault forces on Vishap.”  Estinien lifted his head to look at her, eyes red and swollen from weeping.

                “I don’t remember it.”  He sucked in a breath.  “I remember the pain getting worse, every part of me-my mind, my body, my soul, it all hurting, feeling Nidhogg _ **right there**_ , and then…”  He swallowed.  “I kept pushing back, I refused, I didn’t want to listen, no, no, I wasn’t going to give in…then suddenly there was this stabbing sensation and a flash of light.  The next thing I knew I was waking up in the cave I'd stumbled into the following morning, and the Eye was silent.”  He looked at his arms.  “It stayed silent for a long while.”

_ <What are you thinking?>_ Jean asked.  _< Your thoughts, they are giving me that itch that happens when you’re onto something.>  _

                _When I was in Ishgard, I studied everything-and I do mean everything on the Azure Dragoon._ Heustienne thought.  _Even the stories of the commonfolk.  There was an old wives’ tale that Haldrath used to coat his spear in an incense he created to banish evil spirits.  He did that so that the spirits of the dragons he killed would not haunt him._   Jean started, but Heustienne continued. _My mother’s brother,_ _he was an Inquisitor-and he told me that the Inquisition claimed that one of their tools-a powerful incense used for exorcisms, was created by Haldrath.  I remember him mixing the components once for a ritual he was going to perform, and he let me smell it._

                _< That is where you remember the smell from!>_

_Aye._   Heustienne narrowed her eyes, surveying Estinien.  _The thing is…why is this magic in the remnants of Nidhogg’s essence, and **not** Estinien’s?_

                _< You didn’t answer my question.  Did they put a priest on him after they freed him of the Eyes?> Jean_ asked.

_I don’t have an answer for that.  I would think so, but if they did, the power would be in Estinien’s aether, and not Nidhogg’s.  Plus, the components are rare and expensive…and with how the Church is, I don’t think anyone would have performed a purification ritual on Estinien._ Heustienne bit her lower lip in thought. 

                _Something does feel off, like you said._ She thought. _It’s natural that he’d have Nidhogg’s essence as part of him now, and the remains of the Warrior of Light’s aether are to be expected, but this…this needs some investigation.  If he were to have any purification magic remaining on him, it would be on his person and it’d just be…lingering.  Not like this._

_ <He comes back with us then?>_

_He was coming back with us in the first place._


	6. Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Right. Back to the theorycrafting. I felt there needed to be a really, really, really good reason for Estinien's...well, showing up in Othard when he does. Considering the level 70 DRG questline seems to canonically take place before the events that end up in the total liberation of Ala Mhigo... So I decided to pull out a theorycraft that I've been using for my other fic, Unorthodox, and that is the need for dragoons to have dragon blood and scales for any repairs on the drachen mail. To not have these supplies when in enemy territory, when the chances of possibly getting into a fight that can result in your armor being quite damaged is high--I feel Estinien would possibly not want to take any chances.
> 
> The idea of Zenos's scientists possibly scouring the countryside for talented people is something I feel that might be valid in lore. While it seems to be implied that the enemies encountered in Castrum Abania are defiantly Imperial, the sheer amount of bodies in the Ala Mhigan lab seem to indicate that locals [and quite possibly captured Eorzeans] may have been used in the Resonant-experiments. Now the idea of Estinien encountering them I admit is a bit of creative license, but I like to think there might be a possibility given the fact that he would probably be giving off a rather unique aetherical signal that despite his best efforts, could probably be picked up by Imperial scanners.)
> 
> \--------------------------

               

              It was not turning out to be a good morning.  The sound of engines had pulled him out of a fitful sleep.  When Estinien had tracked the noises to their source, it had turned out that the Imperials had discovered the resting place of Shinryu and Omega as well.  Within two hours the area had been swarming with Garleans, and all Estinien could do was watch as Shinryu’s cage was carefully extricated from the hole by airship.  The best he could do was note the direction the airship had taken when it left, and then scramble back to his camp to pack.  Only once he’d gotten there, he’d discovered that an Imperial scouting party had found it, and there was only _one_ way that was going to end…

 

               

                “Fuck.”

                _< I would agree.>_   With another curse, Estinien squatted down, going through the battered leather satchel.  He could afford to do so; his hands were protected from the broken glass that was inside. 

                _< Are they all broken?>_ Nidhogg asked.

                “…Yes.”  With a curse, Estinien lifted his right hand out of the bag.  Blood dripped from his fingers.  “Every damn one.”  He shot a glare at the dead imperial lying not too far away, wishing the man was alive so he could kill him again.  Nidhogg cursed as well, and Estinien could feel tiny claws scabbing along his shoulderblades.

                _< Are the scales alright at least?>_ Estinien quickly looked back into the bag.  With relief he pulled out several palm-sized scales, then cursed as he noticed the blood coating them.

                “Maybe.”  He’d have to rinse them off and pray there hadn’t been any damage.  Rising to his feet, blooded scales in hand, Estinien surveyed the ruins of his campsite.  Three dead imperials, two of those infernal dogs they liked to use…  There was the feel of a leash being pulled on as Nidhogg pushed off his shoulder and landed atop one of the dead men, clawing at something on his uniform.

                _< This might explain how they found us.>_ Estinien came over, kneeling.  A stylized crest was affixed to the upper left breast-and while Estinien couldn’t understand the writing, he knew the symbol displayed above it.

                “Zenos’s scientists.”  He muttered.  Warning bells made him rise to his feet and check the bodies of the other two-aye, both had the same token.  “Seven bloody hells…we’ve been careful of our aether trail!”

                _< I think at this point no matter how careful we can be, they’re going to sense it somehow.>_ Nidhogg was on the alert as well, head swiveling from side to side as if looking for threats. _ <There’s only so much we can do against machinery.  And it’s not like anyone else around here can hide their own gifted…. we’ve seen what happens.  Or rather, helped some escape…>_ Estinien exhaled, his mind racing.  Just how had…?

                _Could it be they actively scan the areas looking for the aetherically powerful?_   Estinien had heard the stories whenever he dared to venture into the villages and towns to obtain supplies.  Ever since Zenos had been given Gyr Albania, the Imperials had been taking anyone who showed or was said to have powerful aetherical ability.  Including to what sounded like to him, Echo-like abilities.  He’d even saved several people who had been rounded up by the Skulls to be taken to Castrum Abania, which was where the gifted from outside Ala Mhigo were first taken.  Either way…the damage was already done.  With a curse, Estinien rose to his feet. 

                “We’re going to have to go back to Ishgard.”  Nidhogg looked up.  “Not because I need a resupply of dragon blood, but also for them to lose any trail they could pick up on us.”

                _< You don’t think going to the Alliance would be safe?>_

                “It’d be the smart thing to do, but the dragoons that are with the Ishgardian contingent need their supplies.  I can’t march in and demand they give me some.”  The newest drachen mail design, of which Estinien was wearing-used significantly less dragon blood and scales than the previous sets.  The drachen armor couldn’t be made without them, but at the same time the Knights Dragoon had realized the need to be respectful to their new allies.  After heavy debate, long nights at the workshop, and surprising revelations from the members of the Order who had dragon-allies, a solution had been hit upon.  The dragons would be asked if they would be willing to part with blood and scales—and be compensated in any manner that they wished.  In return, the dragoons got the needed components for the precious drachen mail…and a way to weed out trainees.  A true dragoon would be willing to do the work needed for the drachen armor, from squire up to senior.  So far, the payments had been relatively simple—hunting, egg or hatchling-sitting, and in a few cases, storytelling.  And what had come as an even bigger surprise, the armor created from scales and blood that had been willingly given seemed to be much more powerful than previous creations…  Estinien turned on a heel, going back over to gather up his things.

              “Plus, they already have their hands full without us possibly dragging Zenos’s crackpots to them.”  He added. 

_ <You are sure you want to do this?  We will lose the trail.>_

              “I don’t want to do it, but…”  Estinien trailed off.  “I don’t like the idea of traveling without the supplies to repair this armor if it breaks.  It’s hard enough doing patchwork repairs as is.”  Nidhogg flew back over, landing on his right shoulder. 

_ <If anything, you will finally be able to get some sleep_.> He said.  _< Your mind hasn’t had a proper rest for some days now.>  _

             “That’s going to be a fact of life for me for as long as I live.”  Estinien murmured.


	7. Memory (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret part of the Azure Dragoon's history is revealed, and Estinien has a first encounter with a benefactor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This has some sizeable theorycrafting in it. I found it strange that the mantle of Azure Dragoon more or less seemed to go straight from Alberic to Estinien. It seemed a little too coincidental for my taste, thus one of the first theories. As for Haldrath and the armor, my thinking on that is in a previous chapter. Also last but not least, the Rookery in Dravania is listed in the lorebook as being an active skyport for both man and dragon. What Estinien sees there, I covered in a theorycraft posted over on my xiv blog, scrollsfromarebornrealm.
> 
> Everything else, creative license. Please look foward to it. *bow*)
> 
> \----------------

               Heustienne had hated only one part of her job as a dragoon when she had lived in Ishgard...speaking to the parents of any injured or fallen dragoon.  And it was something she had shared with the other dragoons-well, the ones that hadn’t had their souls completely ground down by the rigors of their duty.  Though for anyone in any military service--and this aspect did not discriminate between follower and leader--it was a soul-jerking experience.  Even Jean was silent, curled into a small ball in the back of her mind.

                _…What do I say?_   Some yards away was Alberic, leaning over the prone form of Estinien.  The older man’s shoulders were shaking violently, hot tears trickling down his cheeks and creating damp spots on Estinien’s shirt.  It was the first time since Estinien had left Ishgard that Alberic had been able to see his adopted son, and in the condition that the younger ex-Azure dragoon was in…

                _< You can’t say anything.>_ Jean whispered.  _< If anything, he’s probably relieved that Estinien is still alive.>_

                “…But what I had to tell him.”  Heustienne murmured.  She had journeyed to Trailfeather to trade for supplies and to meet up with Alberic, having sent him a letter on Estinien’s condition.  The hyur had come to the chocobo hunter’s village to speak with Heustienne herself and had insisted on seeing Estinien.  At first, Heustienne had refused, but seeing the desperate look in Alberic’s eyes reminded her of her own family.  Caving, she had led Alberic to the ruined building that she now called home.  “He was the previous Azure.  And with Estinien being the only survivor of Ferndale, and with what Nidhogg did to him…how do we know that Alberic and Estinien weren’t a part of his twisted plan?”  A mental image of Jean tilting his head flashed though her thoughts.

_ <You think he was after Estinien?>_  Heustienne exhaled.

                “…I think he possibly could have been after an Azure Dragoon.”  She began.  “His willingness to wait out his curse-for Ishgardians to begin to give up and turn to dragon’s blood—waiting for a thousand years!”  She shook her head.  “Why not at some point maybe add in a possibility of ensnaring an Azure Dragoon?  The most powerful fighter in all Coerthas, under his control?  The Eye was still connected to him.  Azures could sense him, why couldn’t he learn about them and their weaknesses?” 

                _< …It still required a gamble however.  More than likely he didn’t anticipate that the next bearer of his Eye would have been the one person who survived the village his minions razed.>_  Jean said.  _< But…>_  He trailed off, and Heustienne nodded.

                “Do you see where I’m getting at?”  She whispered.  “The possibility exists.  Aye it can be said that later down the line he did go mad with rage, but _what if it was_ all an act?  The Warrior of Light needed Hvesaglar’s eye to put him down—and she’s powerful in her own right!”  She looked at Alberic, who had rocked back on his heels, rubbing his face. 

                _< …He must have thought it was a gift from the Broodfather if what you say is true_.>  Heustienne felt Jean ‘shift’ position.  _< Your memories have it that the Azure must harbor no malice—save only towards us dragons—because if there was, it would be something for Nidhogg to seize on.  To find out that he was dealing with the only mortal who survived his last attack, and who also was the adopted son of the last dragoon who injured him bad enough that he had to retreat…>_

                “I should come and take care of him.”  Alberic’s pronouncement made Heustienne snap to attention.  “In fact, I w-”

                “No.”  Heustienne held up her hands as Alberic glared at her, quickly continuing.  “Not right now anyway.  He’s still…he’s still grieving, and seeing you…I’m sorry, but it could only make it worse.  Plus, aren’t you helping what remains of the Order?  If you leave them now, they’ll be in a bad way.”

                “They don’t need me.”  Alberic said stubbornly.

                “The majority of the Knight-Dragoon force is now basically comprised of junior and first-year dragoons and you’re saying they don’t need you?”  Heustienne’s voice was sharp.  Seeing Alberic close his eyes, the elezen woman sighed, gentling her tone.

                “Give him a little more time.  If he doesn’t improve any more by the next moon, I’ll turn him over to you.”  She said.   “But right now, there’s something I need your help on much more than him.”  Alberic opened his eyes, blinking at Heustienne.

                “My help?”

 

 

                On the off chance that Estinien would awaken, Heustienne led Alberic outside and down to a small stream that was next to the ruined building.  Estinien’s weapon and soulstone were there, and Alberic listened carefully as Heustienne explained what she and Jean had been sensing.  The dragon made an appearance-loosely coiled around Heustienne’s neck, head lifted in the air.

                “…And you’re saying this…the purification, it’s in Nidhogg’s energy?” 

                “Aye.”  Heustienne nodded.  “And it’s recent.  I could understand Estinien having such a magic on him, but by this time it would be starting to fade away.”

                “He wouldn’t have it in the first place.”  Heustienne started in surprise, and Alberic continued.  “The priests who knew the more powerful rites—they were either injured themselves, helping others, or were part of that mass exodus of the old guard shortly after the attempted coup by the Brothers of the Faith.”  He frowned, lifting a hand to his chin in thought.  “But what you described to me-when Nidhogg first tried to possess him…”  He trailed off.

                “Yes?”  Heustienne said.  Alberic looked extremely thoughtful, his eyes flicking over to Estinien’s soulstone. 

                “…When a dragoon becomes Azure, their old armor is taken and broken down to be reforged fresh.”  He said.  “Then it’s painted in the Azure’s colors or the colors of their choosing.”

                “Aye…”  Heustienne replied.  “That’s…common knowledge.”  Then she blinked as Alberic gave her a wry grin.

                “What’s not common knowledge, and I’m surprised you of all people, with how obsessed you were, never found out—was that during the reforging, the armor is combined with a piece of Haldrath’s own drachen mail.”  He said.  Heustienne’s eyes widened, and Jean hissed in surprise.  “Our sire had two sets of mail.  He was buried with one, and his successor wore the second.  However, he soon reported that it seemed Haldrath’s spirit was still inside the mail, guiding him.”  He lowered his hand. “When the third Azure Dragoon was chosen, they decided to have their armor reforged-and have a piece of Haldrath’s own mail blended with it.”

                “You’re right, I didn’t know about that!”  Heustienne exclaimed.  “Who…”

                “The smiths, of course.  One family’s been a steward of Haldrath’s mail for generations.”  Alberic crossed his arms, looking down at the soulstone.  “Every so often, there would be a story about an Azure Dragoon swearing they were being aided by the spirit of Haldrath.  But the Church would order them to be silent, and now given the story of just what the Archbishop did…”

                “Haldrath’s body.”  Heustienne mummured, putting a hand to her chest.  “I remember what you said.  Nidhogg’s second eye preserved it.”  She looked at Alberic.  “Do you think that…”

                “That Haldrath sensed Estinein’s distress and came to aid him that first time?  It sounds wild to believe, but there’s nothing else that can explain it.”  Alberic frowned. “But as for this matter of Nidhogg’s energy…I don’t know how to explain that.”

                “My knowledge of any purification rites is just prayers and incense, and I’ve not done really anything of the sort since I left.”  Heustienne said.  Alberic didn’t say anything, kneeling to pick up Estinien’s soulstone.  The crystal was now multi-colored, blue mixed with red and black.  He frowned at it.

 

   
  


                _He recognized the place.  It was the set of ruins known as the Rookery…only it wasn’t ruined.  The buildings stood tall and proud, bustling with activity.  Dragons of every sort were flying in and out, and to Estinien’s shock, some had drachen-armor clad forms on their backs.  The elezen found that all he could do was stare at the sight, mind reeling._

_“Hold still, lizard.”  With a start, Estinien looked to his right.  An elezen in drachen armor was scratching the eye-ridges of a dragon, who was humming in bliss._

_ <Lizard he calls me.  A bit more to the left, knife-ears.>  _

_“Would you prefer flying fat fuck?”  The tone between the two was jovial as they continued bantering.  Eyes wide, Estinien looked around once more._

_“What…”_

_“…Huh.  Seems like I was finally able to reach you.”  The voice made Estinien spin around.  Behind him was another elezen male in drachen armor, Gae Bolg strapped to his back.  “This is a little too much on the shock factor however, but maybe it’ll help fix your mind on other things.”_

_“Who are you?”  Estinien demanded.   The dragoon shrugged._

_“Not important. However, maybe now you’ll have a chance to get some decent rest in.”  And with those words, the dragoon reached a hand out towards Estinien.  Before the ex-Azure could say anything, blackness rose up around him…_

Estinien opened his eyes.  For several moments he was still, taking in his surroundings.  Through a crack in the roof he could see that the moon was high in the sky, meaning that he’d slept for a while.  Off to the side he could hear Heustienne’s gentle breathing, and his bed had achieved that perfect mix of hot and cold. 

_What…what was that?_


	8. A Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced to return to Ishgard, Estinien accepts a request that will ultimately see him in Doma...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Just my luck that SE decided to give us that awesome Estinien short story, heh heh! But thankfully this hasn't advanced too far that it makes it competely null and void. There's one or two small things I have to change in previous chapters, and I've had to modify the plot some, but such is the risk you take when you write something that ends up having canon established later on. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> There seems to be enough wriggle room that there can be a time period for Estinien getting some serious mental recovery in… [Because really, all the shit he went through? NO WAY he could just pull it together like that. The same applies also to the founding of Ishgard’s new government. SE just needs to stop with this weird ass time bubble shit.]
> 
> Also the very first part of this chapter was inspired by Monster Hunter World, and the release of the short story. I also suspect that based ON the short story itself, SE might be looking at having dragoons actually team up with dragons once more. And at this point, I also feel the Ishgardian dragoons and the dragons would be at least feeling each other out in terms of a partnership once more.
> 
> Also: For this fic, the WoL is -not- a dragoon. As such, I went with an idea that Estinien might have carried the second suit of drachen armor to Ishgard, for the dragoons remaining there to copy for their own usage. 
> 
> One last note: Until it's said otherwise, I'm -assuming- the 'new' drachen mail is created much in the same way as the previous incarnations...however with greater emphasis on the dragon -freely- giving up scales and blood. I also think it would require -less- of those particular products, as it seems power freely given is far more potent than power forcefully taken. And again, it's hard to figure out a reason why Estinien would leave the battlefield and randomly show up in Doma for the level 70 DRG quest. It can be said that he's there prior to what goes down in Gyr Albania, but the timeline of the MSQ doesn't make much sense for it, I think. It's also established lore that the Garleans were kidnapping people and using them in experiments to create Resonants. Estinien possibly coming up on their radar wasn't too much of a stretch, I felt.)
> 
> \----------------------

                Estinien’s footsteps slowed as he came though the city gates.  A crowd of people were clustered near one of the ramps leading to the Brume, pointing up.  Among them were several children, who were giggling in excitement.  Making sure that his cloak covered his face and armor completely, Estinien walked over.

                “What’s going on?”  He asked.  Now closer, he could spot guards posted at various locations, keeping a careful eye out.  One of the children, a soot-faced street urchin, turned and gave him a gap-toothed grin.

                “The dragoons are about to go flying!”

                _Huh?_   Curious, Estinien looked up.  Far above their heads were two platforms, one higher than the other.  At the very topmost one he could see wyverns clustered together, each one sporting some type of harness strapped on.  On the lower platform, the colorful forms of dragoons could be seen grouped up as well.

                “Oh look!  Yay!”  A cheer rose up, and Estinien’s eyes flicked over to a Temple Knight who was now standing on one of the Brume battlements.  In his hands he held two brightly glowing sticks, shining a bright red.

                _< …What is he doing?>_  Nidhogg asked, puzzled.  As they watched, the Temple Knight started to gesture with the sticks.  The platforms immediately cleared save for one wyvern and one dragoon, who both moved to the ledges.  The Temple Knight gestured again, and suddenly the wyvern dove off the ledge, snapping its’ wings out as it dove down.  At the same time the dragoon vaulted off the lower ledge, reaching out.  Estinien could now see the wyvern had a rope was attached to its harness.  To the delight of the crowd, the dragoon grabbed the rope, slipping a foot in a loop to steady themselves.

                _Oh…_   Another wrym launched itself, swooping down to catch another dragoon.  _That’s new…_

                “It just started last moon.”  A nearby man said.  Estinien started, he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.  “It helps the dragoons get to and from their patrols faster.”

                “My man was one of the leatherworkers they called in to figure out those harnesses.”  A woman said proudly.  “Had to suss out the reinforcing on them.  Who knew those skinny buggers were so strong?  Problem was they didn’t want anything getting strained or broken when the dragoon grabbed on like that.”  She lifted a hand to shield her eyes, watching as another wyvern and dragoon pair cleared the platforms. 

                “Huh.”  Estinien said. _I wonder what else the Order’s gotten up to._

 

               

                The Congregation itself was currently a hodgepodge of construction.  The Knights Dragoon had needed to expand their facilities to accommodate their new allies, but at the same time workmen were needed to help rebuild the parts of Foundation and the Brume that had suffered the hardest hits in Nidhogg’s final attack.  Two city blocks were being overhauled in conjunction with the Foundation/Brume construction for the Order’s rapidly changing needs, with the only properly finished parts being the landing/launching area Estinien had seen, along with the Order’s smithy.  Sleeping and training were still being carried out at the Knight-Dragoon half of the Congregation.

 

                Estinien kept a locker with supplies in the very back of the Knight-Dragoon locker room.  It was habit for him at this point to slip in, pick up what he needed, and then slip back out…because he didn’t have the courage yet to face the other dragoons.  Aymeric had assured him that those among his fellows who had lived didn’t blame him for what happened, yet Estinien still felt guilty.  Nidhogg felt the same way—retreating all the way back into the furthest recesses of Estinien’s mind, curled up tightly into a small ball whenever he returned to Ishgard.  But with encouragement from Alberic and Aymeric, Estinien had at least reached out to one dragoon.

               

                Brucemont blinked.

                “You what?!”  He exclaimed.  “You lost the blood you need for repairs?!  How did you…”  Estinien noted with some humor that the First Lance’s hair had grown much longer and was now tied into a messy queue at the nape of his neck.  Taking control of the Knights-Dragoon had resulted in Brucemont’s normally strict standards for grooming becoming slightly lax.  A series of scars marred the left side of his face, going down to his neck.  “How did you lose those vials?!”

                “Imperials.”  Estinien said, launching into an explanation.  As he spoke, Brucemont crossed his arms, a grim look coming over his features.

                “I’ve been hearing stories of what’s going on in Gyr Albania whenever we have a switch.”  He said.  For the Ishgardian part of the Eorzean Alliance, a small force of dragoons had been sent to accompany the Temple Knights.  To give anyone who wanted a chance at the Alliance’s front lines, Brucemont was allowing dragoons to head to Gyr Albania and serve for some time, then ‘switch’ with other dragoons who wanted their own chance.  It had made for some tight scheduling in terms of their normal patrol strings, badly needed liberty-leaves and whatnot, but the Knights Dragoon were making it work. 

                “Stories are one thing.”  Estinien said.  “Zenos seems to have found the worst men and allowed them free reign over the region.  And the native Imperial sympathizers are the worst of the lot, along with his ‘scientists’.”  He shook his head. “And considering they found me, I didn’t want to dare approach one of your men on a patrol and perhaps expose where they were.”  Brucemont exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

                “Truth be told…you’ve come at a bit of a bad time.”  He admitted sheepishly.  “The last of our supplies have been used to finish the final sets of the new drachen-armor.  Just about everyone’s got a suit of it now.”

                “You look good in yours.”  Estinien said, gesturing to Brucemont’s night-blue mail. Brucemont chuckled.

                “Bastien approves.”  He said, referring to his inner dragon.  “But more importantly, so do our allies.  We don’t smell of dead dragon anymore.  And for those of us who have active curses, the armor’s been a blessing.  It’s a relief to wear something that offers us protection but doesn’t piss off our inner dragon.”

                “For all the harm I had done, I at least wanted to do something to make up for it.”  Estinien said.  Brucemont blinked again, then sighed.

                “It wasn’t your fault.”  He said again. “Believe me.  None of us-the few seniors that survived, nor the youngbloods-nobody blames you.  And those who have fallen wouldn’t blame you either.”  The former Azure Dragoon was silent for several moments. 

                “Those are easy words for the lips to say, but it’s harder for the heart and mind to accept.”  He finally said.

                “Well if I have to say it until I’m blue in the face…”  Brucemont shrugged, and then to Estinien’s relief, changed the subject.  “But aye.  You’ll have to go to Dravania for your vials.  Sorry.”

                “No, that’s alright.  I could do with stopping by there anyway.”  Estinien paused, taking in the look on his former second-in-command’s face.  “What is it?”

                “…There was... well…”  Brucemont trailed off. “I had wanted to possibly ask you a favor, but…”

                “What is it?”  Seeing the other elezen hesitate, Estinien gestured.  “I’m not your commander anymore, Brucemont.  Please, just think of me as…”  He paused. “Well, I would ask that you not think of me _completely_ as one under your command.”  Brucemont burst out laughing.

                “You just don’t want to drill under Dead-Eye!”

                “Please Halone no.”  Estinien said.  Brucemont laughed harder.  “Nor do I want to be under his squire-who from what I have seen, is taking after his former teacher in every single way and then some.  Allow me some dignity at least.”  Brucemont snorted, drawing in a breath.

                “Fair enough!”  Regaining his composure, he looked at Estinien.  “About some moons back, I got word from Alberic.  He’s still in communication with Heustienne.  Some time back she sent a letter to her father requesting assistance, and Alberic came to me.  I sent one of the junior dragoons to him to help with the matter.  Later, Alberic requested that he have the junior assigned to him—which I did.”  Estinien nodded, and Brucemont continued.  “Now I haven’t heard anything from or about the junior dragoon for a while now, and I’m getting worried.  Considering that you were going to Dravania, I was going to ask if you could track down Heustienne and ask what is going on.  I would leave, but…”  He gestured to his office, which was a mess of papers, weaponry, and maps on the walls in various stages of being written upon.  Estinien nodded.

                “Who was the junior in question?”

                “Reinhardt Pendragon.”  Brucemont answered.  Estinien frowned, crossing his arms.  The name sounded familiar…

                “…Cobalt’s squire?”  He ventured.

                “Aye.  He adopted him into his family.  Boy’s turned out to be one hell of a dragoon.”  Brucemont moved over to his desk.  “Just started his third year.  He keeps going the way he is, I expect him to take one of the senior commander spots that we’ve left open.”  The Knight-Dragoon order still hadn’t completely fully recovered from Nidhogg’s final attack.  They were at the point where they now had dragoons to cover all the patrol strings (abit in lesser numbers due to the Eorzean Alliance’s push into Gyr Albania and only then with help from some interested dragons).  Brucemont had effectively taken over as the defacto leader, with the very few living seniors pitching in as advisors and trainers.  Another year would hopefully see the junior dragoons formally assuming the high-ranking places and therefore taking a good amount of the load off Brucemont’s shoulders.  The Order’s command structure overall would remain the same, though there was debate on what the Knight-Dragoon leader should be called.  For the moment, Brucemont was still going by First Lance.  Digging though a pile of papers on his desk, Brucemont picked up a small folio, holding it out to Estinien. 

                “Thank you for doing this.”  He said gratefully.  Estinien shrugged, accepting the folio.

                "Just doing what I can to help."


	9. Memory (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he continues to grieve and recover, Estinien finds that he is now the bearer of memories that are not his own...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Very short and sweet chapter. Theorycraft ahead for the proto-Knight Dragoon order and what could have been a result of Ratatoskr's murder. Also a reference to suicide, you have been warned.)
> 
> \-----------

               From his vantage point, he could look out on the area surrounding the Rookery.  Not much had changed…if you didn’t count the copious absence of Nidhogg’ minions.  There were some that who had gathered under Vishap’s command, but they weren’t around today.  Yet to Estinien it was oddly strange to see the Rookery in its current form…considering that he’d been seeing its past incarnation on nearly a semi-regular basis in his dreams.  For the past fortnight the ex-Azure had been dreaming of Dravania long past, both as an outside observer…and though Nidhogg’s eyes.  When the latter had first occurred, Estinien had awoken in a cold sweat, and had been a wreck for several hours.  But when it had gotten into his terror-filled mind that the dream itself had been different than the nightmares that plagued him…  In it, and the following ones, Nidhogg had been calm, self-assured.  There was no trace of the raw grief and rage that had taken over his soul.  There was the love for his siblings, most of all Ratatoskr.  There was a friendly brotherly rivalry with Hraesvelgr.  There was love for his consort and his children, along with pride.  There was love for a good fight, and Dravania in the past had more than provided one.  Monsters that Estinien had never seen before—ones that took not only a dragon to defeat, but a dragon and a mortal.  The sheer strangeness of it all made Estinien’s head spin even now to consider it. 

                And then there had been the other dream…  A chill that had nothing to do with the weather rippled over Estinien, and he wrapped his arms around himself. 

                “Halone have mercy.”  He whispered.  He was no stranger to dreaming of blood and death, he’d accepted it from when he was a teenager.  But his dream the other night had been on an entirely different level…

 

                _“She was fleeing.”  The elezen woman’s voice was childlike, and she was dressed in violet drachen-mail.  “She was running away.  She didn’t want to fight.  She looked at me and swore that she wouldn’t fight us, that she was going far away and would never hurt a mortal, ever.”  Now her voice was cracking, and the woman looked at Haldrath, who was standing before her.  A look of fear mixed with horror was on the Prince’s face.  Behind him several other dragoons were standing, their expressions mirroring Haldrath’s own.  With a start, Estinien realized the woman was standing on a cliff edge, holding a knife to her bare throat.  Haldrath was several steps away from her, a hand stretched out towards her._

_“Emeille…”  Crying, Emeille looked at Haldrath._

_“She’d been part of my family…”_

_“I know.”  Haldrath whispered.  “Your great-grandfather and she became friends.  Before he died, she promised to be an ally of his line.  She was friends with your grandfather, your mother, and then you.”  Emeille swallowed._

_“I’m going to hell.”  Her voice cracked, and she took another step back towards the edge.  “Halone has already damned me, ser.  I killed my friend.  I killed my friend for no good reason.”  Another step, and Emeille’s foot was now extending out into empty space._

_“Emeille!”  Haldrath cried.  But it was too late, Estinien saw Emeille’s hand jerk as the knife suddenly moved, and her body start to fall backwards, off the cliff…_

 

Estinien shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories.  They hit too close to home, bringing up only even more nightmarish pain.  But at the same time…

                _I remember the stories._   Whispers in the Order, of knightly families of old having allied with dragons.  Bonds of friendship and love that not even the Church’s stranglehold couldn’t destroy and had lasted all the way into the present time.  But this seemed to be something different.

                _If there was a Knight-Dragoon order before the wrym’s murder…and if mortals were allied with dragons…_   Another chill snaked through Estinien at the implications.  _Gods!  They must have been ordered to turn on their allies!_

 _I killed my friend.  I killed my friend for no good reason…_ Emeille’s confession echoed on Estinien’s mind.  Unable to bear the memory-and needing to suddenly be somewhere else, the ex-Azure suddenly vaulted to the top of a ruined wall, turning south where Heustienne and their makeshift home was.  He needed company, to hear a living voice instead of ones belonging to ghosts.  He wanted to crawl into his bed and close his eyes, and just have one night of sweet, formless oblivion…


	10. One Brother's Forgiveness (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spur-of-the-moment decision has Estinien confronting one of his former comrades-in-arms...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Some pure indulgence and theorycraft for this chapter. My brain latched onto the idea of Estinien summoning up his courage to perhaps meet another surviving dragoon from Nidhogg's final attack, plus maybe showing a little bit of Nidhogg's own gentler side...
> 
> Vahn Pendragon is not mine, he is owned by my XIV buddy and I thank him for allowing me to use his character. Also the idea of vassal families having apartments in the manors of the Four High Houses is something that I believe could be canon, as IRL example you could look at the Palace of Versailles in France. The nobility there had apartments that they would live in, along with their own private manors)
> 
> \--------------

                Instead of leaving Ishgard and making his way to the Obsevatorium and Alberic, Estinien decided to stay for at least another two suns.  From what he could remember of Reinhardt, the younger man had been especially close to his dragoon-trainer now turned adoptive brother, Baron Vahn Pendragon.  And from the quick tidbits of gossip that he’d been able to pick up, Vahn’s standing in Ishgard had increased significantly, even though he was still in the process of rebuilding his House.  He was recognized as one of Count Artoiel’s most trusted advisors, and his wife Riven had become well-known for her philanthropy.

                _< You think they might know more than your father?>_

                “Not think, I suspect.”  Estinien said in an undertone.  He was climbing one of Ishgard’s many flights of stairs towards the Pillars, still in a hooded cloak to disguise his armor and hide his features.  “The family’s been known in the Knights Dragoon to be almost uncannily aware of most situations, and often can manage to come out on top if they’re ever in trouble.  And there were always old whispers about them being allied with dragons.”  Nidhogg was silent, idly rifling through what memories Estinien had.

                _< Are there very many who were said to be allied with us?>_ He asked.

                “I don’t know.”  Estinien admitted.  “There were always rumors, though at this point might as well admit that they’re fact.”  He paused, looking up towards the outline of Fortemps Manor.  Nerves twisted his stomach, and he could feel himself not wanting to continue.

                _I’ve only ever spoken to Brucemont…_   Vahn had been one of the precious few senior dragoons who had survived Nidhogg’s final assault.  Since then, he and the other survivors had been working nonstop to guide the younger dragoons as they restructured the Knight-Dragoon order.  From what Estinien remembered of the hyur, Vahn had always been a cheerful soul despite the difficulties that had overtaken his life as the Dragonsong War started to march towards its finale. 

                _The medical records said he almost lost his entire right arm…_   Estinien swallowed.  Closing his eyes, he forced himself to start walking forward.  In the back of his mind, Nidhogg was silent, the only sign of reassurance he could offer a warmth that ran along Estinien’s spine.

 

                The Pendragon apartments in the Fortemps manor were located not too far from the House’s barracks.  Both the Baron and Baroness were in, a helpful maidservant had told a glamoured Estinien.  However, it would be better if he did business with the Baroness, as the Baron had just returned from a tour of duty in Gyr Albania—and whenever he needed rest, his wife acted as the House’s head. 

                _< I thought they didn’t allow women here to do such things?>_

                “They don’t.  Which I always thought was stupid.”  Estinien answered.  “I always felt Halone approved of women taking charge, of fighting.  Instead the Church would always bleat about how she approved of women—specifically noble women--who stayed home sewing and cleaning and letting the men do everything.” 

                _< A proper mate stands next to you, fights with you and bleeds with you.> Nidhogg_ said.

                “Is that what dragons look for?”  Estinien asked, feeling some of his anxiety lesson for several moments. 

                _< It is part of it, yes.>_ Nidhogg was silent for several moments _. <I remember…Tioman, she was brave.  She refused to let me fight alone.  We would have glorious hunts together…though every so often, she would seek to annoy me by carrying a knight on her back.>  _

                “They must have been very special for her to do such a thing…and for you to tolerate it.”  Estinien murmured.  Nidhogg did not reply, but the elezen could sense the dragon dealing with a wave of old grief.  Inhaling sharply, Estinien turned his attention back to the hallway. 

                “I think we’re…”  He trailed off.  Several feet away was the dragoon in question, playfully tugging on a basket being carried by an extremely pregnant brown-haired hyuran woman.

                “Let’s just drop this off with the cooks and I’ll take you to our favorite overlook.”   Unaware of their audience, Vahn reached out to pull his wife in with one arm.  “In fact, let’s exchange it for cooked food, and we can have a lovely private picnic.” 

                “And have your back give out on you carrying me as you jump over all those rooftops?  It only just stopped hurting this morning!”  The brunette countered.

                “For you, my body can do anything.”  Vahn replied with a slightly lecherous 

                “Can it not…”  Riven’s head turned as she noticed the glamoured Estinien.  A flush crossed her features, and she attempted to pull away from Vahn.  “Ah…”  The other dragoon looked over.

                “Ah, are you in any need of help?”  Estinien froze, his mind blanking.  He hadn’t thought about what he’d do when he’d gotten this far.  Everything inside him wanted to turn around and flee, he wasn’t ready for this, he’d never be.  It was a foolish mistake…  In front of him, Riven pulled away from her husband.  Both she and Vahn had concerned looks on their faces.

                “Ser?”

                “I…I…”  Estinien swallowed. Words were failing him, and he still wanted to run away.  Closing his eyes, he reached for the glamour prism that was in his pocket and squeezed it.  Gasps met his ears as the illusion fell away, and his soul quailed.

                _This is it._   He didn’t know what to expect, Vahn had every right to hate him.  Had the battle gone differently, the other dragoon wouldn’t have been around-and his wife would have been a newcomer to the ranks of Ishgard’s widows.  And even then, almost all Vahn’s brothers and sisters in arms had been killed.  A chill overtook Estinien’s body, and the elezen realized he was shaking.

                _Why…why aren’t they…_   There was the sound of feet moving, and then a pair of arms enfolding him.  Estinien nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes opening.  Vahn had him clasped in a strong embrace, eyes closed.

                “You’re safe!  Thank Halone, you’re safe…”  Estinien stared at the other man, unable to speak.  His eyes lifted, meeting Riven’s own.  The pregnant brunette was wiping away tears, a trembling smile on her face.

                “Ser Wrymblood.”  She said softly.  “It’s so very good to see you again.”


	11. Broken Prince (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Azure Dragoon meets the first Azure Dragoon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A midden is a medieval word for domestic trash heap. Also warning for body horror, blood, mention of bad things.
> 
> \-------------------

                He was dreaming again.  This time, Estinien found himself walking through the hallways of a palace.  The stonework gave off that vaguely-Dzemael familiarity that he’d encountered when he had first entered Dravania, while the furnishings were enough to put the combined wealth of the High Houses to shame.  For all his experience dealing with Ishgard’s nobility, Estinien felt as if he were a gawky farm boy once more as he continued walking.  And yet…

                _Where is everyone?_   There were no servants, no lords, no ladies, no knights.  The very air around him seemed like a tomb.  Passing though a set of double doors, Estinien came to a halt.  His eyes widened, lips parting in surprise.

                _This is…_   The room he was in was large, almost as large as the Tribunal’s main courtroom.  Colorful banners with different heraldic designs hung from the ceiling, while beautiful tapestries and paintings adorned the walls.  At the very far wall, upon a dais was a white stone throne.   A cloth-of-gold canopy was over it, and a luxurious fur throw was tossed over the throne’s seat. 

                _Is that…_

                “This was the house of kings.”  Estinien started, head jerking to the side.  The silver-armored dragoon had appeared right next to him.  Lifting hands to helm, it removed the protective headgear.  Ashen-blond hair was pulled back into a bun, and weary violet eyes regarded Estinien.  The former Azure Dragoon could only stare in shock, for he’d seen that face only on statues and in pictures…

                “P-P-Prince Haldrath?!”  A sad smile crossed the first Azure’s lips.

                “I should have stayed.”  He walked over to a nearby table, setting the helm down.  “There had been warrior-kings before.  I only encountered Nidhogg one other time, and then I was fighting his generals.  I could have taken my father’s throne, and the lies that were perpetuated in the name of the Fury would have never happened.”  Estinien found that he couldn’t say or do anything save for continuing to stare at Haldrath’s back.  “But then given what happened to me…it’s probably a good thing I said no.  But then look at what happened…”  Estinien shook his head, recovering his wits.

                _Get it together!_   “Why…why am I seeing…no.  Why have I been dreaming this?  Dreaming you, dreaming…everything?”  He asked.

                “We have a connection.”  Haldrath answered, his tone quiet.  “The only two Azures to ever bear both of Nidhogg’s eyes.  You were lucky.  You had friends and powerful allies who saved you.  I had no one.”  He closed his eyes.  “And I have been in limbo for close to a thousand years.  My spirit lingered due to the Eye and my own sins.”

                “Your sins?”  Estinien repeated.  In the back of his mind the memory of Emilie stirred.  A bitter chuckle came from Haldrath.

                “You think you are bloodstained?”  The prince’s voice was barely a whisper, yet Estinien heard him.  “What’s on you is colored water compared to me.  I made widows, widowers, and orphans out of both dragon and man.  I killed friends, boon companions, and made others turn on their own and do the same.”  The air in the room had begun to chill, and Estinien found his breath puffing out in clouds of white mist.  His body began to shiver and Estinien wrapped his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to stay warm.  Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Haldrath, who had bowed his head.  A dark aura was starting to envelop the prince.

                “I murdered babies.  Dragonets sleeping in their eggs, children curled up in their mothers’ wombs.  I watched men and women burn at the stake for heresy, for some I even lit the fires myself.”  Haldrath lifted one armor-clad hand, watching as the silver mail started to turn purplish-black with faint tints of red.  Estinien inhaled sharply, feeling alarm race though him.  He needed to get out, he needed to get away, this was dangerous--

                “I even murdered brothers and sisters in arms.”  The rest of Haldrath’s armor was beginning to change color.  “They could never offer a proper fight back.  I was too powerful.  They called my spear ‘Armorbreaker’.  He lifted his head and Estinien nearly screamed in horror, just barely bringing up a hand in time to clamp over his mouth.  Blood dripped down Haldrath’s cheeks as if they were tears, two bleeding holes in his face where his eyes had been.  His skin was sallow, and as Estinien watched in horror, a sickingly familiar Eye appeared in the center of the prince’s forehead, while the second materialized in his chest.

                “I swam in blood, I bathed in it, I gloried in its rain.”  Dimly Estinien could hear shouting—Heustienne.  The room around him and Haldrath begin to spin, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the first Azure.  “When I died, they found my body on a midden.  Thrown out like so much trash…”

_Estinien!  Estinien, wake up!_

                “You think you’re a murderer?”  Estinien reared back as Haldrath suddenly appeared right in front of him, bloody hands reaching out and seizing him in a vice-like grip.  The last prince of Ishgard leaned in as if he were about to kiss the younger elezen, lips parting as he whispered into one of Estinien’s ears.

                “Compared to me, you’re just one of the lambs you used to shepherd.”           

**_Estinien, wake up!_ **

 

                And it was with a scream that Estinien bolted up in bed and out of the nightmare, almost headbutting Heustienne.


	12. One Brother's Forgiveness (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The former Azure confronts one under his ex-command over his actions while possessed by Nidhogg, and receives a puzzling clue regarding his newest mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm back. Sorta. Please enjoy.)
> 
> \------------

               The Pendragons had been afforded one of the largest sets of apartments in Fortemps Manor.  Estinien had been immediately whisked inside and taken to the master’s study by Vahn, while Riven had quickly made to dismiss the servants for the day. 

                “Here.”  Vahn pressed a glass into Estinien’s hands.  “You look like you need a drink.”  The elezen didn’t hesitate, lifting the glass of topaz liquid to his lips and drinking.  Unexpected warmth erupted in his throat, and Estinien’s eyes widened.  Vahn chuckled.

                “Limsan Black.”  He said.  “Riven bought me a bottle as a welcome-home present once.  I’ve taken a liking to the taste.”

                _< …This could make dragonfire burn very nicely.>_ Estinien coughed, mentally shoving Nidhogg as hard as he could.

                _We’re not doing **that**!_   Trying to regain his equilibrium, the elezen took another sip of the liquor.  His mind was still reeling from the easy acceptance that he’d been given.  Before he could stop them, the words tumbled out of his mouth.

                “Why are you doing this?”  Vahn stopped, blinking.  “Why…don’t you hate me?  Why aren’t you…why aren’t you angry?  Why are you being kind?”

                “Ser Wrymblood?”

                “I…I almost killed you!”  Estinien was gripping the glass tightly, from a distance he could hear a crack.  “I killed…I killed our brothers and sisters!  You almost died to a dragon-I almost made your wife a widow!  Why…why are you…” 

                “Because it wasn’t you.”  Estinien’s head snapped up at Vahn’s calm answer, and he stared at the other dragoon.  Vahn had turned to face the former Azure, his face serious.

                “I knew it wasn’t you, and so did the others.  Yes, it was your body, but we know it wasn’t under your control.  We all knew you would never turn on us-in fact, you’d do everything in your power to save us if you could.”  He said.  “And the Eye…it was dangerous.  That power combined with your corrupted drachen mail…which we all knew you were wearing so that none of us would be robbed of a suit or at least get repairs…”  Estinien started.

                “You knew?!”

                “We all did.”  Vahn said softly.  “And it made us love you all the more.”  He offered a smile.  “We’ve all lost control at some point, ser.  It was just bad luck that the bastard was around to exploit your weakness.”  Estinien found that he couldn’t say anything and stared at the cracked glass as Vahn took it from his hands.

_Is that what they think?  Is it that simple?_

                “Here, sit.”  Vahn gestured to a sofa as the door opened.  Riven walked in, carrying a tray with several covered plates.

                “Here we are.”  She said.  Vahn started.

                “Riven no, you shouldn’t be carrying loads like that!”  He hurried over to take the tray.  “Sit down right now!”

                “Vahn!”  Finding that he couldn’t stay on his feet, Estinien retreated to the sofa and sat.  Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the cushions.  Vahn’s easy forgiveness and acceptance had greatly thrown him.

                _I’m tired…_ The sounds of a plate clinking made him open one eye, Vahn was setting down one of the covered plates.

                “Have something to eat, ser.  You look like you could use it.”  He removed the cover to reveal several hearty-looking pastries that had a rather appetizing smell of roasted meat.  Estinien felt his mouth begin to water, and he straightened.  Maybe food would help him make sense of what was going on.  With a murmured ‘thank-you’ he picked up one and began to eat, closing his eyes in appreciation at the perfectly seasoned and cooked confection.  Nidhogg rumbled lowly in his mind with approval, and Vahn helped himself to a covered plate.  A comfortable silence seemed to fill the room, and Estinien found the tension slowly seeping out of his muscles. 

                “May I ask what brings you to our home, ser?”  Estinien opened his eyes.  Riven was leaning back against the couch, one hand on her stomach.  The elezen once again found himself struck at how round her belly was in comparison to the rest of her.

                “I…ah…”  Remembering what he had wanted to do, Estinien felt his stomach start to twist again.  For all he knew, the Pendragons could take what he was about to ask them the wrong way, but…  Exhaling, he set down the plate.

                “As…well, as you both know, I’m no longer the Azure Dragoon.” 

                _< Did you have to start by stating the obvious?>_   Estinien ignored the snark, continuing. 

                “However, old habits die hard…so to speak.”  He said, gesturing to his armor.  “I’ve chosen instead to offer my spear in any defense of both man and dragon, and to try and better the relationship between our two species.  I suppose that would…”  He trailed off.  “I suppose it still makes me a member of the Knights Dragoon, however I have more…autonomy.”  Both Vahn and Riven nodded.  “I wish to still help the Order, and as such I’ve taken on a request from Brucemont.”  Taking a deep breath, Estinien continued.

                “Have you heard from Reinhardt lately?”  Both Pendragons blinked.  Worry was quick to flash across Vahn’s face before he hid it under a stone expression, while it remained on Riven’s face. 

                “He sent us a postcard from Kugane.”  Vahn said.  “That was some time ago.  I’ve been trying to find out what this…assignment he was given entailed, and just why did they select him.”

                “May I see it?”  Estinien asked. 

                “I-I can go…”  Riven began, her voice unsteady.  Estinien noted she was holding hands with Vahn, her fingers almost white from her grip.

                “I don’t think he’s hurt or anything, my lady.”  He said quickly.  “Rather, it’s just been a while since he’s reported into the Order.  And given the nature of the mission, I offered to track him down and see if it was going well.”  Vahn squeezed his wife’s hand, rising. 

                “I’ll get the postcard.”  He said.  Riven watched as he left the room, biting her lower lip.  Estinien racked his mind, trying to think of something that could change the topic.

                “My congratulations.”  He said.  Riven blinked at him.  “On your pregnancy.”

                “O-oh.  Thank you, ser.”  The Baroness bowed her head, rubbing her stomach. 

                “Have you been able to learn anything of the baby yet?”

                “Babies.”  Riven corrected.  “Twins.”  Estinien’s eyes widened.  “And yes, so far they’re doing well.  The healers tell me my due date will be in the summer.”  Before Estinien could reply, Vahn had returned.

                “Here it is.”  He held out the postcard, and Estinien took it.  “We were figuring the reason why we haven’t gotten anything else yet is because of all the trouble in Doma.  I had a hard time sending letters to Riven the first two moons in Gyr Albania, the Empire kept attacking the communication lines.”  Estinien didn’t respond, looking over the thick paper rectangle.  There was an ink drawing of what looked like a cityscape on one side, and a brief note on the other, along with the Pendragons’ address.

 

                _Made it to Kugane safely.  Will write more later.  Tell Vahn I said hello and I hope the babies are well.  Reinhardt._

_ <That’s not a lot to go on.>  _Nidhogg remarked.  Estinien didn’t reply, still looking down at the card.  Off on one corner was something that looked like bite marks, and if he tapped into his power slightly and sniffed…

                _Another dragon?_ It was faint, but the small was there.  Under the guise of lifting the card to examine the bitemarks better, Estinien took another sniff.  There was the hybrid man/dragon smell that almost all dragoons had, despite the status of their inner dragon, and…another dragon.   

                _< Things haven’t been that mended yet that you’re partnering up.>_  Nidhogg noted.

                _No…they’re not._ Estinien suppressed a frown.  It was time to go to Alberic, it seemed.


End file.
